The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1887-05-05

1t may have been, had Hugh Brad
lev interfered little sooner, he might
have gained his will. But when he
told his daughter to make her choice
between her father and her lover, that
lover had been Mary's husband for a
week. and no thought of leaving him
was possible.
Her father went abroad, not return
ing until an incurable disease sent him
home TO die Robert Bradley answered
his letter, implOring him to come and
live with him in person, nursed him
faithfully, gave him sons devotion,
aud never ceased importuning him to
alter the viii that made his daughter
peuuiless and enriched his nephew.
Only Il few weeks had passed since
the old home had been made ready for
it- master. but in those weeks the dis
ease that had been progressing slowly,
made swifter advances towards the
end, and both men knew that before
long the old home must have a new
master Should that master be Robert
Bradley or Walter Hallett?
The old man who must decide that
sat where his nephew had left him,
deep III painful thought. He must die!
That he knew. for there could be no
self-dcception there. Die, and leave
his only child to starye! What was ii
Robert had told him2
Il have had letters telling me that
Walter Hallett is a hopeless invalid.
crippled by railway accident, and
Mary supports him by giving music
| lessons. Mary, delicate, used to luxury,
tramps about in all kinds of weather,
going to her pupils, coming home to
| nurse and comfort her husband, and
| do the drudgery of their poor home.
has never forgiven me for urging her
not to marry against your will. So he
| struggles on as she best can. Three
! children lie in the collins who might
have lived with proper food and cloth,
! ING. Uncle Hugh, do not take two
| murders on your soul, l pray YOU
They will die if You do not relent!"
That was what Robert had said. The
| invalid reached out his arm and opened
! a drawer in the desk beside him. i
opened reluctantly, as if it had beer
long closed, and inside lay bundle o.
! letters.
What made him read them? 1t wa:
years since the tiny child's hand haC
! pcnned that Dear Papa" that
stretched in uneven lines half across the
| sheet. Only a few lines in each letter
| written when the child was in the
! country with an aunt. But the few
lines all bore the same burden of child
| ish distress.
1T j. nice here, but | want to come
home to my dear papa" Or, please
please, papa, come here to Mary, or le
me come home to you"
He read them all: but the last ont
was in the flowing hand of a woman
and it told the story of that other love
stronge han that of child for parent
| But there was no anger in his face al
he read, only white terror, as if he
feared his hour too brief for his work.
He drew up sheet of paper within
reach, and wrote his viii again, very
brief, very plain. Everything was lef
to his daughter, and in case of hel
death without children, to his nephew
! Robert Bradley.
As the invalid signed his name, hi:
| physician came in, and one look at hi:
patients face brought him quickly
across the room.
Don't mind me-" Mr.. Bradley
whispered, the beads of perspiratior
starting on his forehead. Sign thai
as witness. Ring for a servant to sign
Quick!-quick! There is no time tt
| Loser
A quick jerk of the bell brought {
servant and Robert, and the invalid
| gaspcd out the few Words
''Sign-my wiII-my signature-yor
are Witnesses
Then, hours of agony, ending il
death.
1t was a week later when Rober
Bradley stood at the door of a lodging
house in one of the poorest street,
in Westminster. listening to woman
who was speaking rapidly bu
not without feeling.
Yes, sir, a telegram came for Mrs
Hallett, but it was on the day she
buried her husband Yes, sir, he died
and suffered more than tongue can tell
She had to give up her teaching, anC
she's sold everything she could turr
into money. She read the telegram
and she smiled-it was just awful, sir
that 'smile-and whispered, too late!
And she scarcely speaks, but sits there
with her hands in her lap. Sometimes
! can coax her to bed, sometimes she
only shakes her head, and its the same
about eating. If put cup of soup tC
her lips. she drinks: but she's lust DIV.
ing Of grief, sir. hope you are some
kin TO her, sir, that can see to her be.
inc cared for. | do the best | can, but
I've a BIG family and a house full OF
| lolgers. | cannot do much for her
poor thing"
Il am her cousin. VIII you see if
| NAV 90 to her?"
The woman nodded, and went up the
narrow staircase, Robert following
her more slowly. He had given up hi,
inheritance. He had conquered the
| love of his life. What was to be his
! reward? He answered the question al
| once. His reward was to be the com
fort and happiness of his cousin Mary
| But could happiness come to her after
such sorrow? Again the answer came
Time will heal even that wound, and
! | love her"
But when he stood in the narrow
entry, waiting for the summons tc
enter his cousins room, there came to
him cry of horror:
Come! Oh. come quicklvw
And, obeying the summons, he saw
in one agonized look that happiness
had come to Mary in death. She had
gone to the husband for whose sake
she had given up everything, and on
the cold, pale lips was smile of per-
feet rest and peace.
He had done all that he could, but
too late.
| How Freuchmen Drink.
| Il